Rhys stayed at Megan’s side long after she had fallen asleep. Gazing down at her, he wondered if she would have second thoughts or regrets when she woke in the morning. It had been a long time since she had been intimate with a man. What would she think if she knew her latest lover was not a man at all?

He wondered absently if she was using any kind of birth control. Not that it mattered. He carried no diseases. He could not father a child. It was the one thing that bothered him about being a vampire. Not that he would have made a good father, not that he had ever really wanted kids, but he would have liked to have had the option just the same. It was the one thing he had always envied about his friend, Delacourt. Erik had been a married man with children before he was turned. It was possible that Delacourt still had descendants living somewhere in England.

Muttering an oath, Rhys dropped a kiss on Megan’s cheek, dressed, and left the house.

Filled with a sudden anger he refused to examine, he headed for his club. Even though it was late, there were still a few men and women lingering over drinks at the bar.

Rhys looked the women over, made his choice, and tapped her on the shoulder. When she started to speak, he silenced her with a look. He didn’t want conversation tonight, he didn’t want anything except a few minutes of forgetfulness.

The woman followed him into one of the rooms and closed the door. When she started to undress, he shook his head. He didn’t want an hour of meaningless sex; he didn’t want to seek comfort in the arms of a stranger. What the hell did he want?

Megan. Her name whispered in the back of his mind as he pulled the woman, none too gently, into his arms and buried his fangs in her throat. This was what he was, who he was. He would never be good enough for Megan DeLacey, never be able to give her the kind of life she deserved. He needed to remember that.

He lifted his head and stared at the woman in his embrace. And then he lowered his head and drank again. This is what you are, whispered a mocking voice in the back of his mind. A monster.

He drew back as his victim’s heartbeat grew slow and erratic. If he drank any more, the girl would die. Odd that he should worry about that now. He had rarely given much thought to the fate of his prey before. In the past, he had attacked men and women without a qualm, taken what he needed without regret, and if his victims didn’t survive, he had shrugged it off. Humans were prey. He was a predator. It had been as simple as that. Until the night he stepped into Shore’s and gazed into Megan DeLacey’s guileless brown eyes.

With an oath, he sealed the wounds in the woman’s neck and lowered her onto the bed. After ordering the bartender to take care of her, he left the club without a backward glance and headed for home.

And all the while, the word monster echoed in the back of his mind.

Chapter 13

Tomás lifted his head, his senses drinking in the sights and sounds of the evening countryside. He had left the Ferretti behind when he left Texas. As much as he loved the yacht, there was a lot to be said for the speed and power of a fine car, and the sleek, black Lamborghini Murcielago convertible was fine indeed, able to accelerate from zero to sixty in just over three seconds.

Tomás smiled as he goosed the convertible up to ninety. As much as he had enjoyed his stay in Texas, boredom had eventually set in, urging him to seek new hunting grounds, new prey. A new method of transportation. Hence the Lamborghini, which he had purchased on the spur of the moment. He had hired someone to sail the yacht to San Diego.

He wondered idly if humans realized how long eternity could be, how monotonous life became when one had seen all there was to see, done all there was to do. For a moment, he considered settling down for a while, taking a wife, pretending to be human. How many times had he done that in the past? A hundred? Two? Inevitably, when his wife began to age and he did not, he had to move on. Occasionally, he turned those he wed, but he was too selfish, too territorial, to share his hunting grounds with anyone else, even someone he cared for. All things considered, it was better to live alone.

He grinned inwardly. Perhaps he could find the excitement he was looking for in New Mexico, the Land of Enchantment.

Chapter 14

Rhys let his glance sweep the faces of the Vampire Council. “The rogue is on the move again,” he said, his voice gruff. “He’s racking up killings from one end of New Mexico to the other.”

“Maybe it isn’t an old one,” Seth Adams suggested. “Maybe he’s newly turned.”

“Could be,” Stuart agreed. “Maybe whoever sired him neglected to show him the ropes, so to speak.”

Rupert shook his head. “No, it’s definitely one of the old ones. I told you, a trusted friend of mine saw one of the victims. He said the vamp responsible was definitely ancient.”

“Then I guess the next step is to try to pin down where the old ones are,” Rhys said. “Adrianna, New Mexico is your home base. Call around and see what you can find out. I want the rest of you to get in touch with the vampires in your areas and see if any of the old ones have moved on. Once we know who’s where they should be, and who isn’t, we can start to narrow the list.”

“I still don’t know why you’re so bothered by all this,” Julius said. “So what if a few humans come looking for us?”

Rhys glared at him. “What if it’s more than a few? There’s already a new hunter in LA. He’s probably heard about the killings. Just because we haven’t heard of hunters in other cities doesn’t mean they aren’t there. We’ve had it pretty easy the last few years. Most of the human population has more important things to worry about than whether we exist or not. But if this rogue keeps killing, eventually people are going to sit up and take notice. I don’t know about you, but I like things the way they are. And what if some of the young ones decide to stop being careful?” Rhys glanced around the room. He had their attention now. “I don’t care what the rogue does back East, but he’s heading in this direction. I like it here. I’m not ready to pack up and move on. What about you, Hastings? You ready to leave Oregon? And what about you, Winchester? You ready to give up your place in Montana? How about you, Nick? You ready to move on?”

Nick shook his head. “No. You said he’s in New Mexico. How about if I go there and see what I can find out?”

“I don’t need any help,” Adrianna declared.

“Maybe not,” Nick said, “but I’m tired of sitting around, waiting.” He looked at Rhys expectantly.

“Might be a good idea to have someone there. Take Adams with you.”

Adams reared back in his chair. “What? I don’t want to go to New Mexico!”

“Who does?” Julius asked, laughing.

“New Mexico is my home,” Adrianna said. “If you want someone to look around, I’ll go.”

Rhys sent her a quelling glance. He didn’t like Adrianna, and he didn’t trust her. Better to keep her close, where he could keep an eye on her. “We’ll play it my way for now,” he decided. “Nick and Seth are going to New Mexico. The rest of you get busy and check the lairs of the old ones.”

“What are you going to do?” Adrianna asked.

“Check my own sources,” Rhys retorted.

“You’ve been a little testy the last few days,” Stuart observed. “Anything we need to know about? We don’t usually meet this often.”

“No.”

Winchester looked up from his cell phone. “Must be woman trouble.”

“This meeting is over,” Rhys said. “Get the hell out of here, all of you.”

Jaw clenched, he watched them vanish one by one, but not before Adrianna clapped Winchester on the back and said, “I think you nailed it that time.”

Chapter 15

Megan was glad to be back to work on Tuesday night. She had rattled around the house all that day, trying to reassure herself that she hadn’t made a big mistake the night before. She had fallen asleep in Rhys’s arms, and expected to awake there, as well. But he had been gone when she awoke, almost as if he had never been there at all. She couldn’t believe he would just leave without a word, not after the romantic night they had shared. She had been certain she would find a note saying he would see her again later, which just proved how wrong she could be. She had searched the house for a note that didn’t exist, waited all day for a phone call that never came. Had he been stringing her along the whole time, just waiting to get her into bed? Silly question, she thought, when the answer seemed obvious. How could she have been such an idiot?

She let out a sigh as one of her least favorite customers swept into the store. In his midsixties, Richard Archibald Clark was the CEO of a major corporation based in the heart of downtown Los Angeles.

“Megan, my dear,” he exclaimed, wrapping her in a bear hug. “You’ve had a horrible couple of weeks, haven’t you? First the attempted robbery, and then the fire at the Drexel concert.” He tsked softly. “Parker gave me all details. Terrible, just terrible.” Holding her at arm’s length, he ran his gaze over her. “Praise the Lord, you look none the worse for wear.”

Disengaging herself, Megan forced a smile. “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Clark, but I’m fine now, really.”

“That’s my brave girl.” Mr. Clark shrugged out of his coat and tossed it to his assistant, Vi. Vi was a mousy little thing somewhere in her midthirties. Megan had never heard the woman speak a word.

“I’m in need of a new suit,” Mr. Clark said, all business once again. “Something dark, no stripes.”

“I think we have just what you’re looking for,” Megan replied, moving toward the north side of the store.

“Yes, you always do,” Mr. Clark said, beaming at her.

An hour and a half later, Megan breathed a sigh of relief when Mr. Clark and his assistant left the shop.

Several customers came and went over the course of the next three hours, and then, as sometimes happened, there was a lull around midnight. Force of habit had Megan looking toward the entrance every few minutes, but there was no sign of Rhys. She checked her cell phone, but there were no missed calls, no messages.